


The Professor and The Ambassador

by bibliothekara



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Alternate Ending, Angst, Angst and Humor, Crossover, F/M, Gen, Romance, Starfleet Academy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-17
Updated: 2011-01-17
Packaged: 2017-10-14 20:23:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/153114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliothekara/pseuds/bibliothekara
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"You never talk about it." In which Scotty learns some interesting things about the life and times of his beloved engineering instructor.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Professor and The Ambassador

**Author's Note:**

> a) Written for [](http://shopfront.livejournal.com/profile)[**shopfront**](http://shopfront.livejournal.com/) , who had the winning bid on my [help_haiti](http://community.livejournal.com/help_haiti/) offer, and wanted happy ending Trip/T'Pol fic. And then it morphed into this.  
>  b) And I haven't written Trek fic in, like, 7 years, so I hope this doesn't suck.  
> c) Also, I am grateful to [](http://shopfront.livejournal.com/profile)[**shopfront**](http://shopfront.livejournal.com/) for a chance to fanfic-ily right the wrongs of "These Are The Voyages." You know which one I mean. So, y'all have been warned.

**********

"Nae, nae, nae, you, my friend, are dead wrong. That can't be right. I mean, I just can't see it. Dr. Tucker. Doctor Tucker, *strung* between two NX class ships, at warp, at the same time? It's sheer madness."

"Scotty, I swear to god, that's what I heard."

Ensign Montgomery Scott looked with withering eye on his friend Yertan, as they walked across the main Academy Quad. The Bolian was trying his best to sound convincing, he knew, but the slight shade of robin's egg apparent behind his ears gave Scotty pause.

"Who from? As the ancient bugger himself would say, cite your source."

"I heard it from Riggs in Xeno-Linguistics, who says he heard from Ens. Maleanor up at Fleet Communications, who says he got it from..."

"Got it from who?"

"Well, that's where the story gets a little hazy. That he met this old British guy in a bar in Hunter's Point one time, and he said he was on the Enterprise and saw it happen."

"In...in a bar. Get off! Because old British guys in bars are always reliable. Hell, I've been 'older British guy in a bar' more times than I can count, and you know how reliable I am."

Yertan grinned, widely. "I do know that, my friend. Well, I just told you so you'd give the guy a break, right? Go actually listen during Warp for Dummies today, and imagine that guy, holding on for dear life to a single duritanium cable, hurtling through the stars."

"I will do that, Yertan. Just once, I will attempt to give him the benefit of the doubt, but only just this once, 'cause I like you."

As they reached the steps of Cochrane Hall, the pair split off for their respective classes, but Scotty threw one last salvo at his friend's retreating form.

"Oh, and you're buying the first round at Garrett's next time, just so's ye know."

Yertan responded only with a complicated finger gesture involving both hands. Scotty was not expert in Bolian traditions, but he was pretty sure the gesture was equivalent to the two-fingered one he'd grown up using in Aberdeen.

Scotty walked down the stairs of the auditorium, and took his usual seat. Second row, right aisle section, third seat in, with the rest of the TAs. Engineers were nothing if not creatures of routine.

Tuck. Old Tuck, on the Enterprise. He had known it in theory, but never thought about it in practice. And Yertan's story had impressed Scotty more than he let on. Because, despite all appearances, he actually did like Doctor Tucker a great deal. For all that the man was set in his ways, and arrogant, and stubborn as a mule. (Scotty suddenly heard his Ma's voice in his ear: "Ach, so you are not, me young Monty?")

The professor could talk your ear off about the nuances of warp propulsion, but he never talked about this. He'd  go on about his stint at Utopia Planetia, his service out on Vulcan, the years at the Academy, but never mention that he'd been chief engineer on one of the most legendary ships in history.

Although, even the daftest cadet had to notice that some pretty distinguished figures tended to show up. Especially for a class like Introduction to Warp Physics. Admiral Archer, in particular, was known to attend every year's first lecture like clockwork. And old "Furrows" (a nickname Scotty was careful never to use in front of the first-years) went out of his way for no man.

 _He served on the USS NX-01 Enterprise. The one that saved the Earth about a dozen times, helped lay the groundwork for what the Federation is today. He could be anywhere_ , _posted to anything, and he's still here._

Scotty emerged from his reverie to people-watch the cadets coming in. And as he did, he noticed another creature of routine.

A Vulcan woman. A beautiful Vulcan woman of, from this distance at least, indeterminate age. Whose face was always familiar, who attended every class. Who sat in the very back row, and always left too quickly for him to identify her. But he had vowed to, eventually.

Scotty tore himself away, as he heard the familiar, not so dulcet Southern tones of Doctor Tucker.

"Awright, all of you, shut the hell up. Today's lecture is a good one, if I do say so myself. And I have, for 40 years, so I'd better know, right?"

Low tones of laughter replaced the chatter, and the cadets settled in. And Scotty sat there and watched Tuck, as he talked. Talked, and moved, walking around the stage, carefully. Punctuating his sentences with the elaborate cane that was like his third leg. Made of a wood that Scotty had not actually seen before, covered with what seemed to be Vulcan words.

He had idolized the man, when he first took this class. Tucker had been like Engineering clothed in Human form. All the beautiful technical ideas that had transfixed him as a child, experimenting with his parents' replicator, taking apart the engine of the transport shuttle. All of these, Tuck knew; and then he gifted him with better ones, and Scotty adored him for it.

 There were limited postings, as the Fleet, even a hundred years old, had room to grow. So after commissioning, Scotty had stayed, starting graduate work.  And the bloom went off the rose, as it inevitably did. Tuck was still brilliant, but Scotty sensed that the universe's march of progress had started to leave him behind. He thought the older man knew it, too, and that's why their fights were so heated. Especially about the transporter; Tuck got irrationally angry, and kind of vicious, during those particular fights. Maybe one day, Scotty would ask him why.

The lecture ended, and the professor headed back, as he always did, to office hours. Scotty fielded the usual batch of questions, jokes, and pleas from his section group. And then he decided, on a whim, to follow the old man.

It was half-way across the building, but Scotty had no other classes or meeting until 1500. When he reached the old-fashioned door, it was slightly open. But what was it that that Professor Sato always said? "Fortune favors the bold"? So Scotty strode in.

And then immediately shaded his eyes, and started in on numerous apologies.

"Sorry, sorry, I am so sorry, Professor,  my apologies and all that."

For Doctor Tucker had not been alone in his office, but with someone. Sitting in his desk chair,  but passionately, if thankfully also clothed-ly, *with* someone. Scotty didn't know the old man had that kind of passion for anything but starships. For some reason, Tuck had always seemed like one of those ancient monks, in the twinned service of engineering and academe.

The pair eventually dis-entwined, and the old man looked over with an annoyed but amused grin on his face.

"Hell's bells, Scotty, don't you ever knock?"

"Eh, it's your own damn fault for never upgrading your door. What is this one, about 500 years old?"

"Sometimes, it's nice to observe the forms, you know that."

"Only because you taught me."

The brief row now over, Scotty looked over at the third occupant of the office. And it was like a bolt of lightning from the blue. The beautiful Vulcan woman had taken a seat on the sofa, and her face was now immediately recognizable.

"Ambassador T'Pol...it's an honor...I apologize for...I mean, wow. Ma'am."

T'Pol almost smiled, and a softness reached her eyes.

"At ease, Ensign."

"Yeah, Scotty, sit down and calm down. I mean, it's not as if she's in the chain of command anymore. Which took all the fun out of life, I swear to god."

T'Pol raised an eyebrow at that.

"Although it did allow us to finally have legal recognition."

Tuck smiled. "Yes, "Mrs." Tucker, there is that. But now I can't call you 'Commander' when I'm annoyed. It was useful there for a while."

Mrs. Tucker. Tuck was married. That was a revelation in and of itself. And chain of command....the Enterprise again. Among the many commendations and honors  in the Ambassador's CV was "First Vulcan to serve in Starfleet"; under extreme duress, if he recalled his history class correctly. Though he guessed no bit of that 5-year mission had been very restful.

"You never talk about it."

The sentence was out before he could even regret it. The atmosphere changed in the room. Scotty thought later that maybe T'Pol sensed what he was on about, before Tuck did.

Her gaze intensified, but she didn't stop him.

And Tuck, Tuck of course was going to make him say it out loud. "Talk about what?"

"The Enterprise. Boldly going where no man has gone before. I mean, for gods sake man, you were the first chief engineer on a warp-capable Fleet ship. You are what all of us aspire to be, and you *never* talk about it."

Tuck looked for a minute like he was considering being angry, but then he looked over at his wife. She paused for a moment, and then she spoke.

"Trip, it has been a long time. And the boy is right; there are many things you talk about with abandon, but that is not one of them."

"And you know all of the reasons why."

"Yes, I do. But there are also many reasons why you should."

Tuck looked down, and then met Scotty's eyes again, smiling balefully. "Always impossible to argue with her. So what do you want to know, Scotty?"

"Well, first of all...Trip?"

The old man laughed. "Well, damn, that's an easy one. And easy to figure out. It's my full name. Charles, Tucker, the _Third_. Trip. But only 'bout 5 people ever call me that any more."

"And most of them served with you."

"Yup."

"Did you really get to Enterprise from Columbia by...my god, rappeling along a duritanium cable? At warp speed."

"Yes. Not an experience I'm eager to repeat. As is true with many things."

Scotty opened his mouth to speak, but Tuck, or Trip, or whoever he was, wasn't finished.

"That's why I don't talk about it, or talk about with a lot of people. There were so many exciting things about that time, but a lot of it was also damn terrifying. We were flying by the seat of our pants out there, and we lost people along the way. Most of the missions that worked out in the end were due to ingenuity, or sheer dumb luck, or a combination of both. We went out to the Xindi Expanse with the full expectation that we might not return."

The Xindi attack. Scotty knew so many classmates who never knew grandparents, or great-grandparents, who had been lost. And even his parents, who had been miles away in United Britain, didn't like to talk about it. It had left its scar on a whole generation. Scotty looked at the portrait of a blond young woman on Tuck's bookcase. His sister, Elizabeth. That much, he had known.

The professor's temper was rising; T'Pol subtly moved to stand behind him. "You want to know why I don't talk about Enterprise? Yes, Enterprise means exploration, new frontiers, excitement, challenges, making a better world. But you see this?" He picked up the cane, and gestured it in Scotty's direction. " _This_ is Enterprise, too."

"What?"

"You're a good student, you listened in class. The signing of the Federation charter. Captain Archer's great speech, that united the delegates? I spent that day,  and the week before, and the 13 months after it, in a medically induced coma, with plasma burns over the majority of my body. 'Cause making new friends means making new enemies, and they picked my ship, my captain and my friends as a target."

Scotty maintained his professor's gaze, but didn't speak.

"I don't regret what I did that day. I don't regret that I've been dependent on this cane ever since, or that it pretty near ended my active 'Fleet career. But it's not an experience I'm eager to relive, especially not for your amusement!"

Tucker punctuated the speech by slamming his fist on the desk. But then he looked up, because T'Pol had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"We are the sum of all of our experiences, my love _._ Good and bad. Without _Enterprise_ , we would not have many of our scars, it is true. But we would be without other memories, as well. I am grateful, and will always be, for every moment together that the universe chooses to bestow upon us. I would not choose to forget any of them."

Tuck was speechless at that. He broke her gaze, and seemed to be a thousand light-years away.

Scotty suddenly found his voice again.

"I'm so sorry, Professor. I didn't know, I swear. And it's not for my own amusement. I'm just too damn curious for my own good. My mother's always said that."

Tuck started to smile again. "Well, contrary to ancient Southern idiom, no cat of mine has ever been killed by curiosity. And T'Pol's right, as usual. Problem with being married to a Vulcan."

"How long have you two been married, if you don't mind me asking?"

"A minute. A day. A lifetime. On Vulcan, years and years ago."

A question popped into Scotty's head.

"What was she like?"

"Back then? As stubborn and as Vulcan as she is now." T'Pol frowned and raised that eyebrow even higher. Tuck didn't see it, but he seemed to *feel* it, and playfully swatted her hand.

"No, sorry, I didn't mean the Ambassador. I meant...I meant, _her_. The _Enterprise_."

Professor Tucker grinned, as wide as Scotty thought humanly possible.

"She was beautiful too. There'd been plenty before her, and there's been plenty since, but she's my true love. Apart from the Ambassador, of course. Stubborn, too. And finicky as all get out.  But she always got us there. Even without the aid of your beloved transporter."

Scotty smirked, at this sorest of subjects between the two of them.

"I'm going to figure out trans-planetary beaming, see if I don't." "Sure, sure."

The professor continued, bittersweet. "She went through hell. We all did. But she came through it. Almost can't believe they're plannin' on building another one."

"I want on that ship, so badly."

Tuck looked kindly on his student. "You'll get there, be patient, Scotty."

His fit of temper over, the old man looked happy. Happier than Scotty had maybe ever seen him. And his wife, who had returned to the sofa to listen, radiated sheer peace.

"So, Professor.....did you really travel in time, once?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Scotty would almost swear he saw T'Pol roll hers. Almost.

There was no such equivocation with old Tuck, though.

"Oh, don't get me started on that whole mess. I _hate_ temporal mechanics."

And as the old man expounded on 31st century men and 20th century Nazis, Scotty just sat back, and listened.

 **fin**


End file.
